Chapter 16 Blood Never Forgot
Blood Never Forgot
For the next several days, Tan Lee David did exactly what Jin Lee wanted him to do without realizing it.
He became distracted.
Not frightened.
Not yet.
But distracted.
The trafficking investigation expanded so quickly that Tan barely had time to think about anything else.
Golden Meridian Imports had become the visible edge of a much larger organization, and every arrest seemed to expose another company, another warehouse, another financial connection, another name.
Federal investigators moved in.
Homeland security investigators joined the task force.
Financial crimes specialists began following money through shell corporations.
State agencies started comparing missing-person cases.
Victim interviews revealed routes extending beyond Los Angeles.
Tan attended briefings when his role required it, but because he had been part of the tactical operation rather than the investigative command, much of the deeper intelligence remained outside his lane.
That didn't stop him from noticing things.
Names.
Symbols.
Patterns.
The gold dragon surrounding the green stone appeared on invoices recovered from Golden Meridian.
The same design he remembered from childhood.
The same design that had caused Mr. Huang's face to lose color years earlier.
The same symbol Tan associated with the ring he'd seen on an older man's hand when he was a little boy.
That bothered him.
It bothered him enough that, on Monday afternoon, he drove directly to his parents' house after leaving work.
Terrence was in the backyard repairing a loose sprinkler head.
At sixty, he still refused to pay people for things he believed he could fix himself.
That philosophy had cost the David household several faucets, one garbage disposal, and nearly an entire bathroom renovation.
Tan found him kneeling beside the flower bed with dirt on one knee and tools spread around him.
"You know they sell new sprinkler heads already assembled, right?"
Terrence looked up.
"You know people used to respect their fathers, right?"
"I respect you."
"Doesn't sound like it."
Tan smiled and stepped onto the grass.
"Where's Mama?"
"Hospital."
"Grandma?"
"Hopefully at her own house."
Tan laughed.
"You know she's got a key."
"I know."
Terrence returned his attention to the sprinkler.
"You hungry?"
"Always."
"There's chicken in the refrigerator."
"Grandma?"
"Your mother."
Tan made a face.
Terrence looked offended.
"Your mama can cook."
"I didn't say she couldn't."
"Your face did."
Tan laughed and crouched beside him.
Then his expression became serious.
"Dad."
Terrence noticed the shift.
"What?"
"Remember the dragon ring?"
Terrence slowly put down the wrench.
"The one you remembered from Little Chinatown?"
"Yeah."
"What about it?"
Tan pulled out his phone.
He opened a photograph from an evidence briefing he'd been permitted to retain because it had already become part of information released through court filings.
A company logo filled the screen.
Gold dragon.
Green stone.
Terrence stared.
"Where'd you get this?"
"Golden Meridian."
Terrence looked toward him.
"The trafficking company?"
Tan nodded.
The air between them changed.
Terrence wiped his hands on a cloth.
"You tell your commander?"
"They know the logo."
"I mean what it means to you."
"It doesn't mean anything yet."
Terrence gave him the look.
The one Tan had spent his childhood unsuccessfully trying to escape.
"Don't do that."
"Do what?"
"Talk like a cop when you're sitting in my backyard."
Tan sighed.
"I told them I may have seen something similar when I was a child."
"And?"
"They documented it."
"Good."
"But I couldn't give them a name."
Terrence sat back on his heels.
"You think it's connected to the Lees."
Tan looked at the image again.
"I think it might be."
"Might."
"Exactly."
Terrence nodded.
"Then leave it there until evidence tells you more."
Tan frowned.
"That's easy for you to say."
"No."
Terrence stood.
"It's exactly why I'm saying it."
He gathered the tools.
"You spent most of your life wanting answers."
"I know."
"So did I."
Tan looked at him.
Terrence continued.
"But wanting something badly enough can make coincidence look like proof."
Tan rubbed the back of his neck.
"I know."
"You promised me when you got that badge that you wouldn't use it to chase your biological family."
"I'm not."
"Good."
"But if my biological family is connected to people trafficking children—"
"Then investigators will find it."
Tan's jaw tightened.
Terrence rested a hand on his shoulder.
"And if the evidence points toward Jin?"
Tan stared.
"Then you let the law deal with Jin."
"Even if he's my brother?"
"Especially if he's your brother."
Tan looked away.
The answer hurt.
Terrence understood.
"You spent years imagining who he might be."
"Yeah."
"Maybe he's a good man."
"Maybe he's dead."
"Maybe he's somewhere with a family of his own."
He paused.
"Or maybe he's become somebody you're going to have to grieve while he's still alive."
Tan's eyes returned to his father.
"That happen?"
"Every day."
Terrence squeezed his shoulder.
"Blood tells you who you're related to."
"It doesn't tell you what kind of person they became."
Tan nodded slowly.
Then he smiled faintly.
"You always have a speech."
Terrence picked up his wrench.
"That's why God gave you to me."
"Thought it was because I needed a family."
"That too."
Tan laughed.
Terrence started toward the house.
"Come eat."
"I thought you were fixing the sprinkler."
"I have a son now."
"You had a son before I got here."
"One who apparently went to law school so he could charge me by the hour."
Tan followed him inside.
Across the city, Victor Zhang was learning exactly how difficult it would be to get close to Terrence David.
The retired assumptions surrounding older police officers didn't apply.
Terrence wasn't careless.
He varied his routine naturally, not because he suspected surveillance but because his life was full.
Some mornings he left early for the station.
Other days he went to church before work.
Twice a week he stopped at Raymond's barbershop.
He visited Harold and Gloria several evenings.
He took Eva out to dinner every other Friday.
He still exercised.
Still carried.
Still checked mirrors.
Still watched unfamiliar cars.
A man who'd spent decades in law enforcement didn't lose awareness simply because his children were grown.
Victor stood inside Jin's private office studying surveillance photographs spread across a black table.
"He's disciplined."
Jin sat near the windows overlooking downtown Los Angeles.
"Everyone has patterns."
"His are inconsistent."
"Then find the consistent parts."
Victor pointed toward one photograph.
"His wife."
Eva walking from Mercy General Hospital.
Another.
"His parents."
Harold and Gloria leaving New Covenant Baptist Church.
Another.
"His house."
Then Tan.
Then Amari.
Jin's eyes lingered on the last image.
Amari wore scrubs? No—Ella wore scrubs. Amari was standing beside Tan outside a restaurant, her hand tucked inside his.
"She lives separately."
Victor nodded.
"Yes."
"Security?"
"Moderate."
"Government employee."
"Her work isn't sensitive enough for federal protection."
Jin picked up the photograph.
"Tan loves her."
"Appears so."
"What about the father?"
"More."
Jin smiled faintly.
Victor didn't.
"This is becoming personal."
Jin's eyes lifted.
"It was personal before you entered the room."
Victor had worked for Jin long enough to know when silence was safer.
Jin returned to the photographs.
Terrence holding Tan's shoulder during the television interview.
Terrence laughing beside Eva.
Terrence standing outside church.
Normal photographs.
That somehow made Jin angrier.
He had spent years convincing himself Tan had disappeared into tragedy.
Instead, Tan had received another life.
A father who adored him.
A mother who loved him.
Siblings.
Grandparents.
A career.
A respected name.
A woman.
Everything.
Jin had built an empire and still felt as though the little brother he hadn't seen since childhood possessed something he could never buy.
Belonging.
That realization became resentment faster than he wanted to admit.
"What do we know about the house?"
Victor opened another folder.
"Purchased twenty-seven years ago."
"Renovated twice."
"Alarm company changed three years ago."
"Exterior cameras cover the front entry, driveway, back patio."
"Interior motion system."
"Window sensors."
"Backup cellular communication."
Jin raised an eyebrow.
"Good."
"Very."
"Can it be disabled?"
"Anything can."
Victor closed the folder.
"But there's another problem."
"What?"
"The neighborhood."
Jin frowned.
"Explain."
"People watch that house."
"Not professionally."
"Doesn't matter."
Victor pointed to several surveillance stills.
"Neighbors greet him constantly."
"Teenagers stop by."
"Older residents sit outside."
"There's a man two houses down who appears to smoke on his porch until nearly two every morning."
Jin looked annoyed.
Victor continued.
"A quiet entry won't necessarily stay quiet."
"Then don't make it quiet."
Victor stared.
Jin leaned back.
"You keep thinking I'm asking for burglary."
"What are you asking for?"
Jin's expression became empty.
"A message."
Silence.
Victor knew exactly what the word meant.
"Dead?"
Jin didn't blink.
"Yes."
Victor looked back at Terrence's photograph.
"You initially said pressure."
"Plans change."
"Why?"
Jin's gaze shifted toward the skyline.
"Because Tan isn't going to stop."
"You don't know that."
"I know him."
Victor nearly challenged the statement.
Jin hadn't seen Tan since he was five.
He decided against it.
Jin continued.
"He was stubborn even then."
"Always asking questions."
"Always following people."
"He once followed me, six blocks because I wouldn't tell him where I was going."
A brief smile crossed Jin's face.
It disappeared.
"If he connects Golden Meridian to the family, he'll keep digging."
"He has police training now."
"Resources."
"Federal visibility."
Victor nodded.
"And killing his father could make him investigate harder."
Jin looked at him.
"That's exactly what I want."
That answer surprised Victor.